


The Ronin Witch Project

by minkmix



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Genre: Creepy Fluff, They go Trick and Treatin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkmix/pseuds/minkmix
Summary: They are young. They go out for Halloween. Things get creepy after Ryo disappears into an old house and his friends are forced to come to his rescue...





	1. Ronin Witch Project.

**Author's Note:**

> It's funny. I promise.
> 
> co-written by Tsubaki

About this capture

The Ronin Witch Project

By Tsubaki & Mink

 

"We should turn around," Seiji said. "This block is no good."

He looked down into his plastic jack-’o-lantern, morosely shaking his pathetic spoils: an apple, five Tootsie Rolls and a handful of candy corn. And about 4 cents in change.

"That’s because you’re dressed as — what are you dressed as, Seiji?" Sai asked, peering at Seiji’s black sneakers, pitch-colored jeans and ebony hooded sweatshirt.

"That’s simple. He’s a mime." Rowen began banging frantically at an invisible box.

"I am not a —"

"Nah dude, he’s thing... um... that guy... uh... DMX!" Kento broke in with an excited gesture. One bloodshot, googly-eye bounced down and hit him in the cheek. Kento was dressed as an accident victim. Crowbar through the head, slinky-eye glasses, white T-shirt splattered with corn syrup, the whole nine.

"Who the heck is DMX?" Seiji said.

"Ummi, ii sa isha," Ryo said, sailing by on his Rollerblades. He lifted his hockey stick and took a swing at a good-sized pebble, knocking it into the sewer at the curb.

Rowen cupped his two hands into a trumpet. "Nobody can hear you with the stupid mask on, Sanada!"

Ryo shoved his white plastic goalie mask back onto his head. "I said ‘he’s a ninja, dummy’!" he called, gliding backwards in zigzags across the street, his oversized jersey ruffling in the wind.

Seiji considered this for a moment, but decided to stick to truth and principles.

"I’m a shadow," he said.

"Hoh boy." Kento shook his head in disgust.

"Okay, whatever Mr. Shadow," Rowen snorted, adjusting his aviator goggles, which had dropped down over his nose again. He pushed them back over his close-fitting cap, settling them behind the earflaps.

"Not Mr. Shadow." Seiji scowled. "Just a shadow."

"A shadow?" Sai repeated, dubiously.

"What kinda powers has The Shadow got?" Ryo inquired, coasting close by again.

"It hasn’t got any powers, it’s just a shadow, it lies on the ground!"

Truthfully Seiji had wanted nothing to do with this stupid dress-up thing anyway, and this was the closest he could come to not doing it without being completely antisocial. His time would be better spent at home with hot tea and the pile of homework on his desk. They were almost in middle school for chrissakes. Even Rowen had already turned ten.

"Wow." Ryo slid to a halt. "That really sucks."

"Hey, where’s your chainsaw, Jason?" Kento taunted good-naturedly, pointing at Ryo’s mask.

Ryo pretended to be puzzled. "Who’s ‘Jason’? I’m Wayne Gretzky." He pulled the mask back down over his face, grinning through the plastic mesh mouthpiece, then sailing away again.

"An’a lef’, an’a righ’, a’ ii SKOSH!" Ryo whacked another unfortunate pebble into oblivion with a muffled victory whoop. Ryo’s candy level was almost as low as Seiji’s, but he was definitely having more fun.

Seiji sighed. "Look, this block is a waste of time," he repeated. "We ought to head back."

"Dude, you’re lucky you get more than pennies and raisins," Rowen decreed.

"Oh shut up."

"Probably got a razor blade in yer apple."

Seiji followed them down past the edges of the last street light. They weren’t going to listen to him.

"Like your costume makes so much sense," Seiji muttered. Rowen’s outsized leather bomber jacket and goggles were a mystery. The silk scarf didn’t help.

"Course it does." Rowen grinned. "I’m the number-one World War One Flying Ace," he announced proudly, striking a rakish pose with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. On cue, the wind picked up, fluttering the ends of his scarf behind him.

Sai brightened. "Snoopy?"

"No," said Rowen, kindly. "The Red Baron. Good guess though." He twisted the end of his scarf. "Say, what made you decide to be the Gordon’s Fisherman, Sai?"

"I’m not him!" Sai exclaimed.

Rowen tilted his head to one side, examining Sai’s shiny yellow plastic raincoat and matching galoshes (with buckles). "Christopher Robin?" he guessed.

"Certainly not." Sai was indignant. He shook his length of green garden hose. "I’m a fireman." His mouth quirked into a sheepish half-smile. "I thought maybe I should be something civil-minded?"

"Civic," corrected Rowen, absently.

Rowen read a lot. More than was exactly healthy, in Seiji’s opinion.

"A fisherman could wear a helmet," Kento offered in Rowen’s defense.

"Oh they do not!" Sai growled.

"Yeah they do, when the fish are on fire." Kento elbowed Rowen in the side.

"Look, I should think it was quite obvious." He removed the cheery red plastic helmet for emphasis, pointing to the shiny gold badge on the front. The badge said, in raised letters, "ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT FOREST FIRES."

Seiji ignored their laughter. The street lights were far behind them, the meager moonlight barely lighting their path. Dusk was giving way to darkness, and Seiji’s thin sweater did little to hinder the chill evening breeze. But support came from an unexpected source.

"Can we please turn around now?" Sai implored. His plastic pumpkin was filled to overflowing. Now it bumped forlornly against his leg as he walked, his eyes darting across the deserted street. "It’s gotten quite dark, and I’ve got to be home soon."

Kento looked around them. "Hey, aren’t we near that old hou —

"Oh yeah!" Rowen said in hushed enthusiasm. "The Old Weiker House!"

Ryo had fallen back to skate leisurely next to them. "The huh?"

"You never heard of the Old Weiker house? There was this guy, and his wife died and he went crazy so he killed all these people and his kids and no one caught him."

"Why not?" asked Sai.

"He moved here and he has been hiding out for forever, like fifteen years, way before we were even born."

"And no police got him?" Kento frown.

Rowen’s face grew solemn. "No evidence."

"No evidence?" Seiji raised an eyebrow. "That’s stupid. How could there be no evidence with a bunch of dead people laying around?"

"Very simple, "Rowen assured him. "Witchcraft." 

"Can a guy be a witch?" Ryo seemed unconvinced.

"He’s a witch-guy. You know, a manwich. A witchdude."

"My mum says men can be anything they wish to be, just like women," Sai added with authority.

Rowen grinned. "It’s ‘Warlock’." He clicked his flash light on under his chin. "A warlock of eeeeeeviiiiiil."

"Hey, there it is." Kento pointed, as they finally reached the top of the hill and rounded the last bare grove of black trees.

The house sat forlornly on the edge of the woods. An old Victorian number straight out of a Midnight Fright movie: old sagging porch, half the windows boarded and the other half darkened, black-limbed weeping willows, thorny bushes, peeling paint and front yard thick with overgrowth, all locked up behind a wrought-iron fence.

Ryo shrugged. "Doesn’t look so bad, just an old dumb house."

"Yes young man, on the outside it is just an ooooold hoooousse," Rowen said in his best scary voice, the flashlight beneath his chin throwing his features into eerie shadow. "But within the house, there lies a maaaaaad maaaaaan."

Rowen definitely read too many books for his own good. Case in point.

"What did he do with the bodies, did he bring them with him?" Sai inquired meekly.

"Um-yesssssssss?" Rowen added. "And their bones lie there stiiiiiiiill!"

"That is the stupidest story I ever heard," Seiji snorted indifferently.

"Oh yeah, Date, like you’re not pissing your pants right now," Kento scoffed.

Seiji turned him a look of utter disgust.

Rowen said nothing, but a slow grin crept across his face. He flickered his flashlight across Seiji’s eyes.

"Would you cut it out?" Seiji shielded his face with his hands.

Rowen’s grin grew wider, and he began to circle Seiji, slowly, appraisingly, keeping the light trained on his eyes. "Not scared, Shadowboy?"

"Oh get lost."

The grin was the most disturbing thing. Generally, it meant Rowen was getting creative. Generally, Rowen getting creative meant hardship and discomfort for somebody else. Generally somebody else meant Seiji.

Seiji found himself chewing at the inside of his lip. He stopped it at once.

Rowen clicked off his flashlight.

"Okay then." Rowen nodded, predatorily. "Why doncha go on up there. Ring the bell. Ask him for a gummi bear." He indicated with a tilt of his head. "Should be easy since you’re so unimpressed."

"Oh please," Seiji said with a dismissive lift of his chin and a covert glance back down the road that led back to the street lights and the sounds of other people.

"Come on," Rowen wheedled. " How much you wanna bet?"

"I’ll bet my Suicide-Choco-Fudge bar?" Kento fished in his pillowcase and held up an industrial sized chunk of chocolate.

"Look," Seiji began, "this is just stu —"

Rowen cut him off mid-phrase, laying down the final, irrevocable words.

"I dare you."

Pitfall set, trap closed, snare shut.

Seiji narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he said, squaring his shoulders.

Behind Kento, Sai gave a little gasp, his hand lifting to his mouth.

Rowen’s smile was smug. "And you gotta go inside," he insisted.

Seiji glared. "Whatever."

Kento almost cheered. "That’s totally cool! Go for it, Seiji!"

"Kento, you aren’t helping," whispered Sai, shaking his head.

Rowen’s face went nearly beatific with satisfaction.

"And," he said, basking in Seiji’s ire, "you can’t just go and come back and say you did it, y’know. We’re gonna need a little proof."

"Proof!?" Nerves strung to the limit, Seiji was ready to snap. "You think I’m some kind of chicken?"

"What kinda proof?" Ryo rematerialized in their midst, ’blades scraping to a sidewise halt. He leaned on his hockey stick, mask perched atop his black hair.

"I say," Rowen laid down his terms, "that the White Shadow, shadow up to the house go on in and bring us back old man Weiker’s cane."

"Hm." Ryo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Doesn’t look so bad," he said with a lopsided grin at Seiji and then to them all. He shrugged. "Yer on, dude."

Seiji turned to stare.

"See ya," Ryo said, and was off before anyone could respond. He turned and skated to the curb, jumping the rise easily and skimming onto the weed-choked walk.

Rowen laughed out loud. "Go for it Ryo! Don’t forget the cane!"

Sai made a small worried sound. "Oh Rowen, you shouldn’t have said that." He shook his head. "We haven’t any business to go wandering about that house." He twisted his hands.

Rowen shrugged. "Aw, don’t worry so much, Sai. He’s not gonna do it." Rowen kicked at a stone at the ground.

They watched Ryo climb the weathered wooden stairs one at a time, sideways, balancing on his skates. He finally reached the porch and glided over to the door.

"See, he’s just gonna turn around and —"

Ryo opened the door and disappeared into the darkness.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Oh shit." Rowen stared in disbelief. "He did it."

"You stupid, you sent him in there!" Seiji punched Rowen in the arm, hard.

Rowen’s eyes were wide. "I didn’t think he would really do it!"

"This is Ryo we’re talking about, after all!" Sai sighed. "He’s not... sensible!"

Rowen narrowed his eyes at Seiji. "You were the one who was supposed to do it!"

Kento groaned. "When his grandmother finds out we lost him..."

 

The four cowered on the dark street, standing before the gate.

 

Seiji listened to his heart thumping in his ears, staring unblinkingly at the porch where Ryo had disappeared.

They crept onto the unkempt lawn, the crunch of fallen leaves under their feet.

"Maybe he’ll be right out?" Sai ventured.

"What if he doesn’t?" Rowen countered, daring to pass through the wrought iron gate that swung back and forth in the wind, long since broken. "Come on."

Hesitantly, they followed him.

They all had almost reached the rickety wooden porch steps when they heard a horrific crashing sound from with the house’s walls.

It was followed by a faint, familiar cry.

"Did you hear that?" Kento’s voice was very small.

"That was Ryo," Sai managed to whisper.

Seiji crawled closer through the brittle overgrowth at the side of the house, pressing his back to the weathered wood porch. Above them was a large window, long darkened with age and dust.

"Kento, give me a boost."

"Hey Blondie," Rowen admonished, "put your hood on before we get caught."

Irritably, Seiji complied, then turned to Kento, who nodded and threaded his hands so Seiji could step up.

"Okay, on three. One, two —"

Seiji grabbed the crumbling windowsill and raised himself so that only eyes and hood peeked over the craggy wood. He rubbed clean a small circle with his sleeve and looked through.

The interior of the house was nearly as dark as the night, but Seiji could just make out some antiquated furniture — ornate but tattered sofa, backless chair, legless footstool — and then, and his eyes adjusted, the room. The dimly-lit hall lay just outside of it. Must lead back to the front porch, he figured. And then he caught movement.

There was a dark shape on the floor, struggling to rise.

Ryo.

Seiji bit back the cry as a second figure lurched into view from the depths of the house. He stared wide-eyed as it hovered over Ryo’s form and then leaned over him.

"The witch!" Seiji hissed down to them, "It’s got Ryo!"

Seiji heard Ryo moan softly as the figure lifted him from the floor and sank back into the blackness, disappearing from sight. Seiji pressed his face forward into the murky glass, straining to see where they went.

A black shape sprang at his eyes.

"Ah —!"

Seiji fell backwards into the frozen brittle grass.

A pair of fierce yellow eyes appeared behind the glass, slanted and gleaming. They floated menacingly in the window, staring down at them with unearthly malice.

The four retreated into the nearby bushes.

"What was that?!" Kento stammered.

Seiji ignored him. "I saw someone."

Sai gnawed at his lip. "The witch?" He struggled. "It’s real?"

Seiji nodded gravely. "We have to get in."

"How?" Sai asked with a pale face. "Oh poor Ryo!"

"Well I was going in, Seiji began, defiantly. "If he hadn’t —"

"Whatever, Mr. Shadow." Rowen mumbled.

"It’s your fault Rowen, you told him to go —"

"Wait!" Kento shrugged and bit at his lip. "Well, can’t we just go to the front door and knock?" He shifted uneasily as everyone looked at him. "We could just ask for him and then just leave?"

Seiji ground his teeth in contempt. "No. We have to find some other way in."

"With that monster in there?!" Sai made a face. "We can’t just go poking through strange people’s windows— "

Rowen had a devious smile on his face. "An excellent idea, Sai."

 

 

They found the basement window at the back of the house. A black cobweb-laced rectangle fixed close to the ground.

They all stood and stared at it for several moments.

"We’ll shoot for it." Kento suggested. "Odds and evens."

Sai scowled. "I can’t ever understand that game!! Who’s odd and who’s evening and —"

"Just do it!" Seiji said impatiently.

They stuck out their hands. Seiji was quickly eliminated, then Kento. It was down to Rowen versus Sai.

Seiji could see that despite all the talk, Rowen was about as interested in going through that dark window as the rest of them. The memory of the strange yellow eyes was strong and vivid in their minds and he was certain none of them were particularly anxious to meet whatever owned them.

Therefore, Sai was doomed.

"Even that thing with the pennies is better," Sai began, ruefully, "at least there’s a —"

"Okay, we can do that then," Rowen said with a theatrical sigh.

Seiji and Kento exchanged a look of sorrow for their hapless friend.

"No wait, I didn’t mean —" Sai protested as Rowen produced a coin out of Seiji’s nearly empty pumpkin.

"Heads I WIN, Tails you LOSE, ’kay?" He flipped the coin into the air. "Call it!"

Sai frown. "Tails?"

"Yup!" Rowen smiled his condolences. "You lose."

Sai considered but crossed his arms. "I never win at that!"

"Yes, it’s really tragic isn’t it Sai?"

"Uh , Best out of three?"

"Sai, you lost fair and square. Besides, yer the smallest, you go first." Rowen’s tone pronounced the matter settled. "Here take my flashlight."

"I don’t see why," Sai complained. "I’m almost as big as heyputmedown!!"

 

Seiji held one of Sai’s legs and Rowen held onto the other, while Kento hooked his fingers through the rubber belt of his rain coat, lowering him down into the dark.

"Sai can you see anything?" Rowen whispered.

"No!" He called back much too loudly.

"Shhh!"

"Whaddaya see?" Kento asked. "Any dead bodies? Vats of acid?"

"No..." Sai’s voice echoed in the basement’s depths. "I think I see a lawnmower...?"

"That’s probably what he uses to get rid of the bodies," Rowen assured them.

"What’s that?!" Sai’s voice got shrill.

"Oh nothing," Rowen said. "Okay Sai, you’re going in," he decided.

"What!!??" Sai’s body tensed in their hands.

"If you don’t go through, YOU gotta tell his grandmother we lost him." Kento added.

Rowen shrugged. "You’re the one with the safety helmet."

Sai’s voice lowered into an angry growl. "It’s a plastic toy not for use in actual safety situations!! It says particularly so on the sticker on the back..." Realizing he was being given no choice, Sai gave a small breath of resignation. "...Can’t I at least go in feet first?"

"Less chatter, more infiltration." Rowen shook his head. "His suspenders are shagged on the window pane, help me push..."

Bit by bit they shunted Sai through the narrow window. "Try and find a foothold, Sai!" Kento called out.

"You’ve GOT my feet!" Sai gasped as he slipped further into the basement below. "And YOU Seiji, I’m the most surprised at your behavior this evening."

"Hold onto him!" Seiji hissed. Sai’s descent threatened to become an all-out tumble.

"Guys. Guys? Hey guys I’m slipping, I think I’m slipping! Hold —"

"Hold ‘im!"

"Honestly Seiji, from you at least I would expect responsible uh, be-behavior... Some-someone could get huUURRRRT!"

Sai’s suspenders snapped abruptly, and he slipped through their hands, swallowed by the darkness below. There was a loud crash, and they all froze close to the ground, waiting for the lights to click on, for the angry shouts of discovery.

There was nothing. One by one they began to breathe again.

"Sorry Sai." Rowen called down, looking at least just a little guilty.

Seiji poked his head into the window space Sai had previously occupied. "Sai?" The flashlight Sai held was nowhere to be seen in the pitch black below. "Where did he go?" Seiji dropped down easily onto the packed earth of the basement floor. His eyes quickly followed the beam of his flashlight, making out shapes in the dimness. What Sai had thought a lawnmower was actually a woodchipper.

Seiji’s skin went cold — not dusty and unused, or old and rusty. The shine off the blades indicated well use, and the strong scent of oil wafted over to him on the crisp night air.

"Sai?" There was no answer. Seiji swung his flashlight around and the beam caught a wooden door in the floor directly below the window, splintered apart with dry rot, collapsed inwards. It was a miracle Seiji hadn’t landed right on top of it. He crawled over to its edge and shone his light down into the depths. The beam caught the dim reflection of a glossy yellow raincoat.

"Hey look," Seiji said, "Sai found a door."

"With my face!" Sai’s bitter words were muffled. Seiji could just make out his movements below. Sai’s raincoat crinkled as he righted himself.

"You okay down there, Sai?"

"My torch is broken!" He had obviously got his wind back. "Get me out!"

"Hey Seiji, you see anything?" Rowen called.

Seiji surveyed the darkness around him. "There’s just some jars and things. On shelves."

Kento perked. "Like jars full of body parts?"

Seiji rolled his eyes. "Will you gimme a second please?" He peered in the dark. "It’s just a bunch of white floaty things."

Excitement mounted in Kento’s voice. "Is it heads?"

"I can’t tell yet!"

"Brains? Human livers? Fetuses?"

Seiji sighed. "It’s eggs, Kento."

Kento eagerly leaned further into the window, stepping on Rowen in the process.

"Ow!"

Kento pointed at a likely jar. "Well... well THOSE are definitely some fingers," he said, with conviction.

"Those are pickles!"

"Eyeballs?" Kento ventured, hopefully, clambering and shifting the rest of his body through the narrow opening.

"Green tomatoes."

Kento looked so disappointed Seiji almost felt bad.

Kento dropped to the dirt floor with a muted thump, wobbling a bit on the edge of the dry-rot precipice Sai had created. He pinwheeled his arms to keep his balance. Rowen landed lightly beside him.

"I’m still down here, you know!" Sai called up, sulkily.

"A root cellar." Rowen nodded, appraisingly. He crouched down by the hole, peering down. "Now Sai, aren’t you glad you were wearing your helmet?"

"Oh yes very," Sai responded dryly.

Rowen’s face crinkled in contemplation. "You know," he began, "I was reading this thing the other day, they were doing, like, this profiling, like with police and private eyes and stuff? They say a large percentage of serial killers keep root cellars. ‘S where they stash the bodies."

Sai’s upturned face paled under the beam of their flashlights. "Oh that’s just brilliant." His voice shook, wavering between ire and panic. "You lot’ve trapped me down here!" He planted his feet unsteadily on the muddy ground, staring up in reproach. "How am I supposed to get out? I’ll die!"

Kento shone his light around. "Dunno, Sai, maybe you could use those stairs?"

"Oh."

Sai quietly gathered up his cracked plastic helmet and trudged over to the pocked, crumbly concrete staircase that lay against the far wall. "Kento, stop messing about with that torch!" He made his way up carefully on all fours, grasping the rim of the helmet in his teeth.

"Sorry." Kento stopped flashing the light every which way and directed his beam towards the unexplored regions beyond the racks of jars.

"Okay, now what?" Sai said, dusting himself off and replacing his helmet, somewhat worse for wear.

The ceiling lay low and bare, open to the floor beams and thick with cobwebs. Their flashlights caught and lost the wood chipper and dusty pipes that ran down the walls. An ancient, neglected wood-burning furnace sat cold in the center of the room.

Still nursing a bruise or two, Sai wandered away a little ways, not straying too far from the group. In the dimness, his anxious green eyes were briefly magnified through yet another jar of cadaverously-white eggs. Kento roamed along the wall while Rowen wound his way around the shelves of preserves, occasionally tapping at a huge jar with a forefinger.

Seiji frowned a little, puzzled. "Why are there so many hedgeclippers?" The beam of his flashlight had hit the opposite wall. Row after row of very sharp and very long blades hung in the stark cold. Their leather handles were dark with use.

Rowen shrugged. "Well that serial killer thing said a large percentage of serial killers use hedgeclippers to kill people to death."

"Awesome," Kento whispered, duly impressed.

Sai shivered, wrapping both arms around himself. "Do you think Ryo’s been hedgeclippered?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Probably," said Rowen logically.

Seiji punched him in the arm. Rowen had the decency to look ashamed.

Suddenly the floorboards creaked right above their heads. The cob webs swayed and plaster rained down with the dust.

Everyone froze.

Slowly, tediously, the footsteps traveled over them and moved away.

One by one they came out of their frozen state.

"The witch is upstairs." Sai squeaked.

"Then we should get up there while it isn’t hanging around," Kento scaled the short row of wooden planks that served as steps, little more than a tilted ladder. "Let’s try the door."

The other three drifted nearer. Kento rattled at the door, a muffled metallic clanking. "I can’t get it open," he said, "I think it’s locked." He rattled harder.

Seiji whirled on him. "Do you want to bring the old man DIRECTLY to us?"

Kento paused mid-rattle. "Um... no?"

"Then quit the racket!"

Cowed, Kento released the doorknob.

Seiji scanned the area, feeling along the chilly, dusty wall. "There’s got to be another way out of here." Sai and Kento also moved to the wall, following his example.

"Not necessarily," said Rowen, helpfully. He carefully crossed the room, winding his way around equipment and rotten support beams. "The average serial killer usually tries to keep the hideout pretty escape-proof."

Seiji glared at Rowen’s back.

"I don’t like you," he said.

Rowen looked back over his shoulder and grinned.

"Um, I think I found something?" Sai offered. They all joined him. "It’s kind of a little door thing. Probably just the fusebox."

"No wait, I know what this is." Rowen inspected the recession in the wall. Running fingers over it with practiced care, he slid fingers into the join at the middle. The small door slid open horizontally, like an eyelid. "It’s a dumbwaiter."

"A stupid what?"

"A DUMBWAITER," Rowen enunciated. "It was in Hardy Boys Adventures, Hardy Boys Versus The Notorious Doom Gang? They were trapped in this dungeon in this old house in like Germany or something, and then they got in and they went to the top floor and they got out onto the roof and they stopped this guy like right before he escaped in this helicopter —"

"Okay, that’s great Rowen but what does it DO!?" Seiji interrupted. Too many damn books. You started losing the point of real life.

"Oh. Sorry. It’s like an elevator, but they use it for food and stuff."

"Can we fit?" Sai peered into the cramped interior.

"I don’t want to ride in any stupid-waiter thing." Kento sniffed.

"DUMBwaiter."

"Still a stupid name," Kento mumbled.

"You should go first, Sai," Rowen advised. "You’re smallest."

"You said that about the window!"

"Well we can’t send Kento up first." Rowen jerked a thumb at his friend. Kento’s ten-year-old frame was far from fat, but he was more... er... solid than any of them by far. "If he gets wedged in there, we’ll all be stuck."

Kento paled.

"I’m not going in there by myself." Sai folded his arms across his chest, defiantly and unashamedly terrified.

"I could go first, I guess," Seiji ventured.

"Well I’m still not going by myself," Sai said. "We have no idea where this thing ends up."

Seiji hadn’t thought of that. Ah well. It was too late to back out now.

"Then again, Sai," Rowen put in, "two people could be too heavy and you could plunge to your death."

Seiji hadn’t thought of that either. He blanched covertly.

"Rowen, do you ever THINK about the things you say?" Sai scolded.

"Sometimes."

"Sai can go with Rowen," Kento suggested. "Rowen’s skinniest."

"Okay," Rowen agreed. "Seiji can go first, I’ll go with Sai, and Kento can bring up the rear." He peered up into the lift shaft. "Probably we can holler up or down if something happens. The wall should echo it back."

"No we can’t," Seiji said. "Too loud."

Rowen shrugged. "C’mon Date," he said. "Climb in."

Seiji crawled into the dark cubicle, arranging himself cross-legged against the back wall. He had to duck his head a little.

"If you hear anything outside the door," said Rowen as he began to slide it closed, "Don’t get out."

And with that, the door banged shut.

to be continued...


	2. part 2

Seiji was beginning to be VERY sorry he'd offered to go first.

There was a click and a metallic groan, deep and prolonged, the sound of aged gears and rusted pulleys turning reluctantly over one another.

It would give them away.

Seiji's throat closed up, dry and strained, and his every muscle went desperately rigid, as though by will and resolve alone he could silence the machine. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles pressing into the raised pattern of cold metal floor.

But there were no footsteps, no floodlights of discovery, no frightened cries or witchy shouts. Maybe it was safe for now...

In a few moments the darkness became dimness, and he could just make out the square shape of an exit above him. He tensed, readying himself to scramble out.

Four feet away, now two, now one, gears moaning and grinding — but the lift showed no intention of slowing. Seiji stared as the window slowly disappeared below him.

Sai's concerns began to playback and replay at the back of Seiji's mind — where would he end up when this thing stopped? On the roof? In a hall? In the very lair of the madman? His heart raced.

Would it ever stop? The darkness cocooned him, pressing in upon his skin.

Stay calm, he told himself. Stay calm. He shut his eyes and counted to himself.

Forty-four... forty-six... forty eight...

The contraption lurched to a halt. Seiji reached out — more eagerly than he'd planned — groping in the darkness for the exit. By feel, he wedged his fingers into the aperture, prising the sliding doors apart. He stumbled out of the lift.

Sight sharpened by the ink-darkness of the dumbwaiter, the faint moonlight magnified everything for Seiji. Irregular, angular stacks of shapes covered over by white sheets, old broken frames, anonymous boxes, an ancient ivory dressmaker’s mannequin... He left his flashlight off. Better to blend into the darkness than to stand out as a light source.

Out here the air was chillier on his skin, dustier, stiller. Unused, as if it had forgotten how to be breathed and lived in. Outside, the wind lifted, whistling through the rafters. Seiji pulled his soft, warm hood tighter around his ears, and pressed the button to send the lift back down, keeping his back firmly to the wall. If you had to get stuck all alone in solitary, alien darkness, it was best to do it with both eyes wide open and something solid right behind you.

The clamor of the dumbwaiter vied with the wind's crying. Seiji crouched, waiting.

A brief glimmer of silent lightening illuminated the monstrous antlered head of a moose on the wall above him. Its eyes were missing.

A second time, the dumbwaiter grunted to a halt. Seiji scrambled over and yanked the door open.

"Whew," Rowen breathed, unfolding his rangy limbs. He didn't say anything more. He didn't have to. Seiji reached out and pulled him up, wordlessly sharing his relief.

"Where are we now?" Sai asked in a small voice, grasping Seiji's hand tightly as he clambered out of the dumbwaiter after Rowen.

"Attic." Seiji’s answer was clipped. Sai nodded, his face pale in the fading moonlight.

He looked up toward the small round window high up in the eaves. Seiji followed his gaze — dark clouds chased each other across the moon’s face. "I think there’s a storm coming," Sai said.

Rowen leaned his head down the wall shaft. "Ken," he whispered loudly. "You ready?"

"Ready," came the faraway reply. Rowen shut the door and punched the switch.

 

They waited, solemnly listening to the whirring of the gears as the lift lowered back down to the depths of the basement, all silent by unspoken agreement. After a while, they heard the distant sound of the metal door sliding open, then a brief shuffling — Kento was getting in — and then the distant, punctuated sound of the door being dragged shut. More whirring.

Then, the sound of nothing — silence.

All three exchanged a look of concern.

Rowen tried the door. "It won’t open," he said. "It’s not here yet, it must have stopped further down. "

"Maybe it’s jammed." Seiji moved Rowen firmly aside and put his own hands on the door. It held fast.

Wide eyed and white faced, Sai moved between his friends and pressed the dumbwaiter button.

Nothing happened.

"Is it stuck?" Rowen pressed the button himself. "What’s going on?" He jabbed at the little control panel, again and again. "Come on, come on."

With a sudden grunt and a whirr, the mechanism started up again. The three at the door breathed a collective sigh of relief. Sai crossed all of his fingers.

Finally the thing ground to a halt. Side by side, all three reached out at once to slide the door open, together, Seiji flicking on his flashlight.

Sai breathed. "Thank goodness that’s ov —" He stopped, mid-word, jaw hanging.

The dumbwaiter was empty.

Outside, the faint rumbling of the distant storm had begun. The sound of their bated breathing skirted the silence, a smaller echo of the rising wind that sighed in the rafters like a living soul.

"Maybe he got off," Seiji ventured, chewing his lip.

"Maybe he found another way up?" Rowen scratched his head uncertainly.

"Maybe he’s in the root cellar," guessed Sai, miserably.

"Sai!" Seiji snapped.

"Or maybe... maybe Old Man Weiker..." Rowen trailed off, for once in his life demurring to be the mouthpiece of their fears.

"We’ve got to go down there." Seiji’s voice wavered. "We’ve got to find Kento."

 

 

They backed gingerly down the rough wooden attic stairs, as steep as any ladder, avoiding splinters, keeping their footsteps as light as they could. Rowen first, Sai in the middle, Seiji last. Sai’s foot slipped on a weak spot, sending a small cascade of dust and cobwebs down into Rowen’s face. Rowen sneezed.

"Shh!" Seiji’s whisper was harsh; apprehension upgraded his annoyance to anger. "We’re trying to infiltrate and you two are making all that racket!"

"Yes," Rowen hissed back, "well that spider just infiltrated my nose. What am I supposed to do?"

"Spider?" Sai’s voice became a squeak.

"Sai," Rowen said, kindly, "hush." He patted Sai’s ankle.

 

 

The third floor was quiet, but not exactly silent. The clank of frozen pipes sounded from deep within the walls, making them jump, and the wooden floorboards under their feet groaned as if the house had a life of its own. Ancient wallpaper peeled back from the walls in layers, revealing rotted plaster beneath. Old glass oil lamps were mounted on the walls, like the ones Seiji had seen in those boring black and white movies that their parents liked to watch, dusty and unused.

From somewhere in the house, there came the sound of a grandfather clock striking, like an abbey bell; deep, inexorable and close by... six... seven... eight... nine... ten...

"It’s midnight," Seiji said, unnecessarily.

"I’m going to be in so much trouble," Sai moaned, softly.

The three moved slowly down the wide, high-ceilinged hallway. Flashes of lightning lit the tall windows at the each end, throwing irregular silhouettes across the walls and floor. Tattered remains of diaphanous curtains shifted fitfully in the crossdraft.

"What’s all this?" Sai asked, breaking the tense silence and startling them all. He pointed at the clutter that lay along the walls.

Seiji approached the strange shapes, mysteries in the gloom. The closest form was as tall as he was.

Sai shook his flashlight until it flickered weakly again, its beam joined by Seiji’s stronger one. They all made a collective intake of breath, unprepared for what they saw.

It was a box, but it was decorated with the oddest pictures and images they had ever seen. A lion with fins was frozen in a silent roar, and out of its gaping mouth came flowers and stars.

"Look, there’s more." Rowen pulled a dusty, linen sheet from another looming shape to reveal a mirrored table that sat on its side. Half of the mirrors were cracked or missing.

"What is all of this?" Sai watched Rowen open a chest which was filled with lengths of rope and somber-looking chains with heavy locks. He drew back from Rowen’s timid search, keeping a safe distance.

"I think I know," Rowen said, solemnly. "I bet he uses this stuff to torture all of those kids." He ran his fingers along the side of another cabinet.

There was a long billboard of a green-skinned woman calmly holding her own decapitated head, and next to it, an oblong box. It had one door left, and half a door on the other side, hanging off its joints. Inside were more mirrors, and heavy black curtaining.

"Torture?" Sai’s voice cracked.

Seiji frowned staring at another strange crate. It had a different image on each side — a figure with a heavy leather book in a deeply cowled dark robe, a woman in a drapery white dress holding a scale and a knife, a golden-haired young man with a sword and a rose, persued by a black-hooded figure with a scythe.

His answer was reflexive. "Torture? That’s... that’s..."

"Stupid?" Sai filled in hopefully.

Seiji nodded, uncertainly.

"Hey," Rowen said approaching a third box, the oddest of the bunch for its very lack of decoration. Its sides and doors were darkly-stained wood, nearly black in the stormlight. "This one has hinges."

"Maybe you shouldn’t mess about with that —" Sai urged even as Rowen gripped the edge of the box and tried to pull it open.

Seiji silently agreed. It was one thing in the daytime — a bunch of cheesy paintings and old boxes. Nothing but dust and firewood, you could tell yourself, and you could even make yourself believe it. But at midnight in a freaky witch house with a friend being maybe abducted and tortured in unknown chambers —

Well, it wasn’t the same.

The headless woman smiled down, as if what Rowen was doing pleased her.

"I remember now." Rowen’s voice was filled with awe. "It’s an Iron Maiden. When you go inside, it drains your blood... like the Spanish Inquisition."

Too. Many. Damn. Books.

"It is not a godamn Iron Maiden." Seiji’s fear (yes all right, he admitted it, he was afraid) made him more snappish than he intended to be, but anger was comfort, in its own way. At the very least, it was warm. "Normal people can’t have an Iron Maiden. Normal people don’t go down to the K-mart and pick up the latest Iron —"

"No." Rowen cocked his head to the side. "NORMAL people don’t."

With a hard yank and grunt, the side of the cabinet gave and creaked open. Rowen grabbed it before it could swing shut again.

"It’s empty." Rowen managed to sound disappointed. He stepped forward and peered into it.

Seiji felt his heart jump and go cold.

"Rowen," he began. "Rowen, don’t —"

Rowen stopped to look at him. It was the first time all evening Seiji had said anything to him in a civil tone of voice.

"Wow Date," Rowen said, flipping his hair out of his eyes. "Didn’t know you cared."

"Rowen," Seiji repeated. He took a step forward. "I mean it. Don’t."

Rowen shrugged stepping into its interior, coated with musty black paint. "That book said that almost ninety percent of serial killers have some kinda signature, y’know, like a unique method they always use to tortu —"

The door, on a spring, slipped as Rowen let go of it. It slammed shut behind him.

"Rowen!" Sai and Seiji exclaimed at once.

There was a frenzied banging on the inside of the door, and the muffled sound of Rowen’s voice. His voice didn’t sound angry, it sounded... afraid.

Rowen didn’t get afraid.

Seiji grabbed the corner of the box and yanked, hard. It wouldn’t budge.

"Sai, help me."

Sai’s hands joined his.

The banging got louder and louder and then suddenly stopped.

Sai and Seiji looked at each other.

"Rowen?" Sai ventured.

"Rowen?" Seiji repeated, softly, and then harshly: "Rowen!" He thumped on the door with the heel of his hand. "Rowen dammit, that’s not funny!"

"Wait," Sai’s slid his fingers down the side of the box. His voice and hands shook. He looked up, his eyes very dark and wide. "Seiji? I... I think there’s... there’s a lever or something..."

His fingers slid under the latch set into the cabinet’s surface. The door popped, and they swung it open.

It was empty.

"He’s gone," Seiji said, numbly.

Sai whimpered.

Almost unaware, he reached out to squeeze Seiji’s hand. Seiji did not push him away. It was a bit more comforting than he wanted to admit.

 

 

"Come on Sai," Seiji muttered, tugging on Sai’s raincoat sleeve. "He’s not here."

"But - but how?" Sai crawled behind the wooden cabinet, waving away the cobwebs that caught in his hair. "It's impossible!"

"I don’t know," Seiji said dully, looking down the bleak corridor and the top of the ornate stairs. "The witch."

There was a pause.

"Seiji?" Sai chewed nervously at his lip. "Wh - where do you think it’s taken them?"

"Down." Seiji moved resolutely towards the stairs. "Downstairs. That’s where the witch is."

"Seiji, look!" Sai was at the window. Outside, the black limbs of the trees lashed in the first, sudden sheets of rain. Seiji joined him at the sill. Sai had gone pale, his hand trembling on the glass.

Sai pointed down to the overgrown garden. The thick woods formed a backdrop to the scene below, glistening darkly in the rain. A single wraithlike figure had emerged from a dilapidated shack at the edge of the woods. It struggled with its burden — a heavy sack of coarse cloth, dragging it across the ground. They watched, petrified.

A sudden jagged streak of lightning tore through the sky with a daylike brightness.

The figure paused, looking up abruptly, directly at the window where they stood.

Seiji dropped to the floor, dragging Sai with him.

"Oh," breathed Sai. "Rowen."

Seiji narrowed his eyes as they crawled cautiously to the staircase.

First Ryo, then Kento, now Rowen.

Seiji was a believer.

 

 

Sai followed him down the gentle curve of the broad staircase, one hand on the elaborate banister, and one hand firmly locked into Seiji’s hood.

"Sai, you’re choking me," Seiji hissed, stepping carefully down onto the next old, pocked-marble stair, struggling to neither make a sound nor slip and fall. Lightening briefly illuminated the stairwell, exposing intricate stained-glass windows high above them, throwing bizarre colors against the wall, flickering ghostlike across the floors. A deep roll of thunder followed, causing the walls to tremble.

Sai made a small panicked sound, twisting the hood even tighter in his fist. "I can’t let go," he said. "Don’t leave me alone in here!"

"Sai, I can’t breathe."

Sai took one step down closer, his fist loosening not the slightest.

Seiji sighed and pulled at his collar in an attempt to increase his air supply.

The steps ended at a deep red rug that lay tattered and frayed down a length of dreary hall. The stairs continued their descent on the far end of the corridor. The second floor hall was much less cluttered than the third.

"Do you think they’re in one of these rooms?" Sai asked walking close behind him.

"No." Seiji shook his head. "We would hear them." He listened to the silence for a moment, his hand on Sai’s shoulder, keeping him still. "They’re downstairs. They have to be."

They started down the long hallway. The dust on the floor was undisturbed, and the cobwebs that draped the doorways were intact; no one had been here for a very long time.

They passed each door quickly, fearful one might swing open and prove Seiji wrong.

"We’ll go downstairs and find them, and we’ll get out of here Sai, don’t wor —"

He stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride. Sai ran into his back.

"Seiji? What is —"

Seiji clamped his hand over Sai’s mouth and nodded towards the end of the corridor. The stairwell curled like a snake down and around the corner, disappearing from view around the bend.

There was light down there.

Sai’s eyes were wide, but after a moment of silence his frightened gaze flickered back to Seiji in terrified question.

Creak.

They both jumped. Seiji knew he had heard something. They both stood frozen in the hall.

Creak.

Slowly, laboriously, it was coming up the stairs.

"Maybe it’s one of the guys?"

Seiji’s eyes narrowed. "It isn’t." The sounds were too slow, too measured, as if something were dragging itself up each step.

A flash of fear coursed through him, hot and white. His mouth went dry.

"Sai," he whispered. "Hide."

Sai sprang away, while Seiji darted into a hall closet. He had just enough time to see Sai climb into a wall cabinet and pull the narrow door shut behind him. Seiji shut his own door, as quickly and quietly as he could.

Seiji backed up against the wall as far as he could go. The air was stale and musty. He burrowed behind moth-eaten wool, cold hard shapes of old leather shoes sliding uncomfortably underneath him. He held himself absolutely still, not breathing, not blinking, hardly daring to think.

The slow, torturous footsteps reached the top of the stairs. Seiji pressed his back into the corner and squeezed his eyes shut.

It knew they were there. It had to know.

Seiji held his breath until his lungs burned.

It was only a few feet away now. Nothing between him and the creature but a flimsy wooden door.

The footsteps stopped.

Did it know? Could it hear his heart pulsing in his chest? Could it sense him there, see him through the crumbling plaster walls with its flashing demon-yellow eyes?

SaistayquietpleaseSai pleasedon’tmovestayquietpleaseSaiplease

The floorboards creaked and groaned as it moved closer, a dull hiss accompanying its passage as if it were dragging an old soaked skin behind it.

There was a long silence, and the thunder rumbled through the sky above and through the walls and floor beneath him. Seiji shivered.

Had it gone? Seiji’s heart leaped. Maybe the thing had moved on, soundlessly above the wooden planks as if on air, content to search for them elsewhere. He tried to believe this, and for a moment almost succeeded.

A sudden staggering lurch of movement made him shrink back into his corner, old shoes digging into his back, pulling the musty wool over his face. The floor creaked and vibrated shuddering with the ungainly steps.

But the steps were fainter. And fainter.

It was moving away.

It was leaving.

Slowly, Seiji let out the breath he had been holding, faint with hope.

Seiji waited, silent and still, until he could barely hear the footsteps. He finally cracked the closet door open just in time to catch a glimpse of the misshapen, lumbering shadow as it turned the corner and made its arduous way down the stairs.

Seiji slipped dizzily back into the hall, on all fours. The carpet under his hands was damp with the thing’s passage.

He hastily wiped his palms on his pant legs. The frenetic beating of his heart made him lightheaded. He crawled to the other side of the hall.

"Sai," he called, daring barely more than a whisper. "Sai? It’s gone."

Seiji rose up onto his knees in front of the oddly narrow door, then to his feet. The door was at his waist level.

"Sai," he called again. "It’s safe to come out now."

He grasped the rusted latch and pulled it open, slowly so it wouldn’t screech on its hinges.

"Sai," he coaxed. "He’s gone. You don’t have to be afraid."

The cabinet was empty of shelves or even a floor.

"Sai!?"

"Seiji —" The voice came faint and panic-stricken from the dark depths. In the light of the hall behind him Seiji could see Sai’s yellow raincoat, his white, white hands grasping desperately at the cabinet’s edge. "Seiji help me, I can’t hold on —"

In an instant, Seiji knew what had gone wrong. What they had mistaken for a simple cabinet was a laundry chute, a tunnel with no bottom, leading straight down...

"Oh god." Seiji lunged into the narrow opening. "Oh god, Sai, hang on —"

Seiji could hear the sound of Sai’s feet, scrambling to gain a foothold on the slick metal. His green eyes were wide with stark fright.

Seiji locked his knees and leaned as far as he could into the chute. He got a loose hold on Sai’s arm.

"Try to pull yourself up, Sai." Seiji struggled to make his voice encouraging. "I have you. Try to pull up."

"Seiji," Sai gasped. "Don’t let me fall!"

Seiji moaned, leaning down to grab Sai’s other hand, using all his strength to pull Sai forward. His body trembled with the effort, arms straining in their sockets. His flashlight slipped from his pocket, sliding, skittering, bouncing past Sai and down into the dark, hissing against the metal, briefly sending erratic beams of light down the smooth incline, disappearing from sight.

Seiji pulled, gasping, bracing one foot against the wall for purchase. He didn’t have enough leverage — he couldn’t pull Sai up, and he couldn’t let go to get a better grip. All he could do was hold Sai where he was.

"Seiji," fear reduced Sai’s voice to a strained whisper, "I - I hear something —"

Seiji heard it too — an echo of movement from down the shaft.

All of a sudden the fallen flashlight beam was shone straight back up.

Seiji’s senses flared, a rush of adrenaline flowing through him. The witch knew where they were now. The witch was right below them, waiting for Sai to fall. He wouldn’t let that happen.

"I’ve got you, Sai."

Sai’s hands were beginning to slip.

"Sai," Seiji forced calm into his voice. His muscles sang in pain. "Try to get a foothold. I’m going grab the collar of your coat and try to pull you up."

"No, don’t let go of my hands!"

Seiji let go of Sai’s left hand and grasped the collar of Sai’s raincoat.

"No, Seiji please, I can’t hold on!"

Seiji gripped the collar... If he could just hold on, if he could just pull Sai up far enough to grab the wall’s edge...

Sai’s right hand was slipping.

"Don’t worry Sai," Seiji said. "I’ve got you. Don’t worry."

Sai swallowed. "Okay," he whispered. Tears streaked his pale face. The rain coat slipped up over Sai’s shoulders, bunching under his arms.

"I’ve got you." Seiji heart raced in his ears. Sai was almost there. Just one more inch.

Then suddenly, the weight vanished.

Seiji flew backwards and hit the opposite wall. He sat stunned for a moment.

The light under the laundry chute wavered and was gone.

Seiji stared down at the bright yellow raincoat in his hands.

to be concluded....


	3. the end

By Tsubaki & Mink

 

Seiji sat on the hallway floor, gnawing at his lower lip. Mostly to keep it from trembling.

He waited for a few minutes, knowing in his heart that the terrible monster that had spirited away his friends was surely coming for him next.

His fate was sealed. That terrible misshapen monster would drag him off, just like it had with all the others, one by one to whatever unknown horror awaited, while he’d stood by unable to stop it. It was coming for him.

And it was no less than he deserved.

Seiji curled his knees to his chest, pressing his head down into his arms. Sai’s raincoat was stiff and cold against his cheek.

How would it happen? Would the apparition rip through the floorboards and grab him, dragging him down to its fiery den? Would it drink his blood? Suck out his brain? Dismember his body?

Would it hurt?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Minutes ticked by. Far in the distance, the grandfather clock chimed the half hour. Outside, rain and wind beat at the windows.

Nothing happened.

Slowly, Seiji stood up, clutching Sai’s shiny raincoat in his hands.

"You can’t have my friends," he mumbled defiantly. Loud enough to give himself some courage, but not loud enough to make anything mad. His knees shook a little, teeth and fingers clenched. His heart pounded. The emotion was a little surprising.

He was angry.

Seiji strode to the stairs and looked down the winding passage. With great determination he put his hand on the ornate wooden banister.

"I don’t care if there is a witch."

He waited a few seconds to see if his feet would buy it. They did.

It surprised him.

 

 

Seiji crept down to the last step, hiding behind the massive dark oak balustrade that rolled into an impressive dusty flourish at the foot of the staircase.

This was it. The first floor.

At the base of the stairs, an old Tiffany lamp sat on a narrow antique table, beside a vase of crumbling dried flowers. It threw a sickly yellow light that did little to brighten the dreary foyer. A runner carpet lay down the length of the short hallway — once it might have been scarlet, but time had faded it to a red-tinged grey. On the walls, rows of antiquated portraits stared down at him. Their eyes seemed to follow him as he moved.

Seiji’s hands trembled as he stepped down onto the dusty rug, his eyes darting left and right.

"I know you’re down here?" he whispered bravely. "I’m not sc-scared of you?" The hallway led down into the gloom, a doorway at the end of it, tall, imposing, half-hidden by shadow.

Seiji squared his shoulders and started to walk down the hallway, eyes trained forward. Determined to reach that door, he did not see the forlorn abandoned object that lay in his path until his foot kicked against it. He stumbled, and looked down, sharply. His breath caught in his throat.

It was a white plastic goalie mask.

Seiji bent down and lifted the mask with numb fingers.

Ryo

Seiji shivered.

He looked up and around at the vestibule he crouched in — was this the spot where Ryo had disappeared, where the dark and wizened creature had lifted him from the floor?

He swung to look back through the adjoining dark room, searching for the hazy grey outline of the window where the yellow-eyed creature had tried to attack. Memory set his heart pounding even faster. His own handprints were still visible on the dingy glass. He could see the small circle he had rubbed to look through, on the other side. On the outside. Safe on the outside.

I’ll find you, Ryo. I’ll be with you soon.

He stood, clutching the mask. Where should he look? What if they weren't even here? What if they had been taken away to some —

He had to be absolutely quiet. He had to be careful — one false move, one untoward sound, one misplaced step sound would send him to his doom.

Carefully Seiji lay the mask on the table next to the lamp. He would be as quiet as a mouse, and he would find his friends. Quiet as a mouse.

Or, he mused, a shadow.

Creak.

Seiji froze. The footsteps echoed close behind him, resonating as if they were in this very hall.

Creak.

It was coming, coming straight towards him. He had to hide.

In panic, he staggered back, striking something steely-edged and unyielding. His ears filled with a deafening, heart-stopping crash.

(So much for mousehood.)

Instinctively, Seiji threw his arms over his head, waiting for the metal to crush him to the carpet. A dark shape clanged to the ground and rolled noisily over the floor, resting at his feet.

It was a knight’s helmet, silver, battered and tarnished.

Stunned into open-mouthed silence, Seiji turned to see a headless suit of mail standing stoically in an unseen alcove, a large and wickedly sharp axe gleaming coldly in its gauntlets.

Scarcely had his heart resumed beating when a long, knarled hand grabbed him by the hood of his sweater, lifting him from the ground.

Seiji screamed.

Fingers dug into his neck He kicked, flailed, but his arms connected only with air.

"Let go let go let go —"

Hands pushed him forward into the darkness, the ragged breathing of his captor growing louder and its lumbering step tumultuous after so many moments of fearful quiet.

"Don’t kill me I don’t want to die please don’t kill me someone heeeeeellp —"

The hand opened the heavy oak door that lay at the end of the hall, and shoved Seiji inside.

Seiji fell to his knees, beating at the door with his fists, screaming at the top of his lungs as the lock clicked shut.

"Let me out let me out somebody help me oh god —"

"Seiji?"

Seiji stopped.

The room around him was well-lit. There was a fireplace crackling with warm red embers. The sweet scent of hot chocolate wafted around his face. It was almost cheery.

Sai stood behind him in his white thermal shirt and suspenders, holding out a steaming cup, an apprehensive expression on his face.

Seiji looked down dumbly at the mug of hot chocolate that was being pressed into his cold hands.

"Wow Seiji," Rowen said, simply.

Seiji blinked.

All was silent. Across the room sat Kento and Rowen, dwarfed by the huge, overstuffed brown velvet couch. Some of the cushions were leaking their stuffing. Kento and Rowen fidgeted nervously, as if waiting for an irate principal.

There were here.

Seiji stared dumbly at Sai. Sai knelt down beside him, cautiously, staring back. He had two spots of red in his white cheeks, and his eyes were very wide and round.

"Sai?" Seiji’s voice cracked. He reached out, his hand trembling.

Sai jumped as if ready to dart behind the furniture. Tensely, he attempted what he obviously thought was a brave and encouraging smile. It made him look rather ill.

"Sai?" he began again, quietly, calmly. "I - I lost your raincoat."

"Ah, that’s okay Seiji?" Sai ventured.

Seiji face crumpled into tears.

Sai, already sniffly, having fallen through the floor twice in one day, tried shakily to comfort him. "Never mind it, Seiji. Um... There there?"

Seiji, who had not leaked a single tear ever, even last year when he’d fractured his arm falling out of a tree, who had flushed all three fish-victims of a radiator incident without batting an eyelash, who had openly sneered when confronted with the non-existence of Father Christmas, now hugged Sai around the middle and sobbed unabashedly into his side.

Sai blanched, still trying. "I - I was very scared too? There now, buck up old boy..."

"Aw Jeeze." Rowen slouched moodily into the couch, arms folded across his chest.

Sai shot him a venomous look. "Now don’t you dare start, Rowen. He’s had a terrible day!"

"Like OUR day was a fun-filled trip to the zoo," Kento muttered. He dabbed at his own damp eyes with the back of his sleeve, caught up in the drama of the moment.

Rowen glared at Kento, his own dark eyes glistening, his lower lip beginning to tremble. "Oh fer crying out loud," he said, in fragile contempt.

"Oh, as if you weren’t bawling just as bad when the witch tossed your butt in here."

"I had something in my eye!"

"Well," Kento smirked, "it’s back."

Rowen elbowed Kento in the side. "Shut up."

"You shut up!" Kento snarled back, giving Rowen a shove.

"Now stop it!" Sai’s voice rang out before it could escalate into a full-scale battle. "You two aren’t making anything better!"

Seiji hiccuped softly while Sai helped him drink his cocoa.

"Well he started it," Kento muttered under his breath.

"All this fussing will get us nowhere." Sai patted Seiji’s hair. "We need some sort of plan."

"Yes! A plan!" Seiji looked up through his ebbing tears. "We could do that!"

A plan! A strategy! A standardized operating procedure! An organized structure, a sequence of events leading to a logical conclusion that would get them all home —

Seiji wiped his eyes hopefully.

Sai drew himself up straight, shaking his finger at the others.

"A well-ordered plan is the key to any successful strategy," he recited. "Without a plan you’ve got no future, and without a future you’ve got no plan." He raised his fist for emphasis.

"Where’d you get that from?" Rowen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The Blue Power Ranger," Sai said, dreamily.

Suddenly, the main objective reoccurred to Seiji. "Have you seen Ryo?"

"No," Kento answered. "We haven’t seen him, did you get a good look at the witch?"

With a chill of memory, he shook his head, no. "It was too dark."

"Yeah, us too." Kento sagged. "Well even without acid or a stake, we’ve got to beat him! I’m tired and I’m cold and frankly, I’m hungry."

Everyone stared at the apple cores that littered the floor at Kento’s feet.

"Fruit doesn’t count!" Kento pouted.

Seiji took in the scattered apples and hot cocoa. It gave him pause. "Where did all this food come from?"

"Before Sai came." Rowen had regained his composure. He shrugged. "The witch pushed it through the doggie door."

Everyone turned to look at the ridiculously tiny flap on the door.

"It gave us cocoa?" Sai was surprised. He looked down into his cup. "Maybe it’s not so bad?"

"It’s fattening us up for the kill!" Rowen said, passionately. His cold mug sat untouched on the end table.

Everyone set their cocoa down in renewed distrust. Kento took one last defiant sip, then put his down with the others’.

Seiji’s gaze turned back to the door. "It’s got to come back," he said, softly. "When it does —"

"There’s four of us and one of him. He don’t got a chance," Kento assured them all, bravely. "When he opens the door again we can get ‘im."

Rain beat on the windows, and the log in the fireplace popped and hissed.

Seiji stared at the ceiling-high, heavily curtained window that made up one wall of the room. He was silent for a long time.

"Seiji?" Sai inquired. "What is it?"

Seiji did not answer. Slowly, he stood. His knees were still a little wobbly.

He crossed the floor to the picture window and tugged on one of the thick, velvet curtains. The heavy material flowed around him as he pulled, experimentally. He turned back to the others.

"We could use one of these," he began. "All together, we could maybe throw it over his head when he comes into the room again. You know, blind him."

Suddenly, wordlessly excited, the other three darted to his side and began to help him drag the cloth down, wrapping their arms around sections of it and pulling.

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Hey, watch your elbow!"

"Kento, let go, you’ve got my sleeve in there!"

The curtain jerked and abruptly gave way in their arms with a popping of rings — Sai landed rump-first on the carpet. The rings tinkled as they pinged onto the floor around him, then there was a whump as the other three piled on top of him in a landslide of musty velvet.

" ‘Kay guys." Rowen said, disentangling himself. "We’re gonna have to hide. Sai and me can duck behind the couch, Ken, you and Seiji go behind the curtains. When we hear the door open, we can rush him."

"We’ll nail that dude!" Kento popped up out of the red velvet. He sounded like he was beginning to enjoy himself again.

The four friends exchanged something close to a smile.

It was instantly halted by the sound of footsteps in the hall, creaking across the aged floorboards.

"It’s him," Seiji whispered. "Hide."

The footsteps approached, slow, shuffling and measured, growing louder, and louder. Seiji listened to his blood throb in his ears as silently, he counted down. Three — Two —

The lock clacked open. Slowly, the doorknob began to turn.

One.

"NOW!"

With a reverberating war whoop they descended upon him.

Seiji and Kento flung the heavy drape over the shadowy, wizened form while Rowen and Sai launched themselves at its trunk, knocking it to the ground. Rowen and Kento each constrained an arm while Seiji pinned the flailing legs, just barely managing to immobilize them with his entire body.

Sai had grabbed one thick, overstuffed sofa cushion, and now he swatted the creature over and over at the place where one assumed its head should be.

"You wicked wicked person!" he cried.

A horrible muffled shrieking emanated from within the folds of velvet.

"Where’s our friend!?" Seiji demanded, kneeling on what he supposed was the figure’s chest. "What have you done with Ryo?"

The figure’s responding tirade was garbled. It didn’t sound kind.

"You give us back our friend!" Sai whacked the bundled shape once more.

"Uhhh... what’s going on?"

"We got him, Ryo!" Sai exclaimed. "We’re winning! We —"

There was a pause.

"Ryo!?"

The room went silent, all their effort stilled by the sound of the familiar throaty voice.

"What the heck’re you guys doin?"

Ryo limped into the room, skates hung by their laces across his shoulder. His left ankle was wrapped snugly in an Ace bandage. In his left hand he held a half-eaten bran muffin — and with his right hand —

— with his right hand, he leaned heavily upon that most crucial of objects — antiqued and weathered smooth, the very thing that had started it all, the catalyst for the whole debacle this evening had become —

Old Man Weiker’s cane.

Ryo stared at them, incredulous, eyes wide and appalled.

"You guys beat up an old dude?"

 

 

In disbelief, the four would-be avengers hauled themselves to their feet.

"Ryo!"

As a body they swarmed on him.

"You’re alive!"

"We thought you were killed!"

"Are you okay? Were you in a dungeon?"

"Did you get sacrificed?"

"You got the cane!"

"All right, okay guys! I’m fine! I’m fine!" Ryo’s yell was laden with embarrassment. "Okay guys, you can get off now, I’m fine, see? Aw guys, c’mon!"

Gradually they released him, the first profound wave of relief wearing off.

Ryo scrubbed the back of his arm across his mouth. "Awright, who kissed me!?"

Nobody answered.

"Ryo where were you?" Sai tugged his sleeve, a parental scowl darkening his cherubic face. "We were worried sick!"

Ryo shrugged. "We were just looking at Old Man Weiker’s cool baseball card collection. He’s got, like, a billion really old ones — you’d die, Rowen — and then we heard all this noise from, like, all over the place, and he went to check it out."

They stared down at the writhing angry mass of velvet and storm trousers.

Quickly Ryo went to pull the heavy drapes off the thrashing figure.

The witch emerged — a withered scarecrow of a man, swathed in a damp plastic rain poncho, uttering words that could burn small holes in the air.

Kento stared in fascination, delighted in language he had, until now, only dreamed of.

The old man pulled himself up, glaring at them, his salt-and pepper-beard and fluffy white hair in craggy disarray.

He didn’t look very witchy.

The four boys hung back, unsure whether they should help him up or run screaming in the opposite direction.

"What kind of rotten juvenile delinq —" The old man staggered to his feet. Ryo tried to help him up, but did so hopping on one foot and lost his balance. The old man shook his arm to dislodge the boy. "Let go!!"

Ryo picked himself up off the floor.

"He’s human." Rowen stared, saucer-eyed. "Like us."

"In my day kids like you woulda been strung up by their anklebones!"

"Ah, we didn’t mean it, sir?" Sai began. "We... uh, that is..." he pointed reproachfully. "Rowen here told us you were a witch!"

"I live here, I pay my taxes, I mind my own business for fifty years and suddenly my house is infested with rugrats!" He turned to Ryo. "Are there any more a’ you?"

Ryo looked down, shamefacedly. "I think this is it, sir."

"You sure? No one else gonna come crashing through the ceiling at me? Anybody coming up through the drains?"

They all looked down at the floor and began to fidget.

"No sir," Ryo said.

Okay, this was not fair. Seiji balled his hands into fists. They had been terrorized all night long by this - this person — this could not be as simple as it seemed.

"But you killed Kento and Rowen!" Seiji accused.

"Killed ‘em? Killed ‘em!!?" The old man’s face was bright red. His two alleged victims looked even more guilty and nervous. "First I find this one stuck in my dumbwaiter, I think there’s some bloody poltergeist in there movin’ the thing around, I open the door and there’s some kid in there covered with fake blood, I think I got some kind of murder victim on my hands, gonna have police crawling all over the place, what’s the matter with you kids these days and your gory costumes?!"

Kento lowered his head. One googly eye bounced out of his jean pocket. He shoved it back in.

"It’s sick I tell you! Hey kid, what are you supposed to be?"

Seiji blushed.

Without waiting for an answer, the old man continued. "So I pull him outa there and stick him in here with some cocoa to stop his blubbering, and as soon as I do that here comes this one," he jerked his thumb at Rowen, who pretended to be interested in the wallpaper, "come crashing around in the old decrepit magic box I made for my little girl forty years ago, I’m surprised he didn’t go flying through a wall!"

"You made that yourself?" Sai whispered in admiration.

"Probably murdered a family of squirrels who lived in there nice and peaceful since seventy-nine," the old man muttered. "And THEN I hear the lot of you scraping around upstairs, I come up to get you outa there ‘fore you can rip the roof off, and this one comes barreling down the laundry chute and knocks over three racks of wine!!"

Seiji looked thoughtfully at Sai. He had been wondering why Sai smelled like a lush.

"You keep wine in the laundry?" Rowen inquired.

"Have done since ‘fore Prohibition."

"Where do you wash your clothes then?"

"Shut up, kid. And then," he pointed at Seiji, "then I find this one destroying my 12th-century armor in the foy-yay!" He glowered. "Think that’s replaceable, boy? That’s a priceless antique! Think I can just grab another one at the Five and Dime?"

"But..." Kento stepped protectively in front of Seiji. "But you did murderize Ryo!"

"Ryo? Who’s —" The old man scratched his head. "You mean this kid here? Who came Blade-Running in here like he owned the place and sprained his ankle on Mr. Peepers?"

"Rollerblading," Ryo corrected, guiltily.

" ‘Mr. Peepers’?" Kento was incredulous.

"Yes, Mr. Peepers!

"Mrrgnnaow!"

A small grey tabby with bright yellow eyes sashayed arrogantly into the room, rubbing against the old man’s pant leg. It hissed at Ryo, then sat down and began to lick its paw with a dainty pink tongue.

"Shoulda heard the racket," the old man said. "Sounded like somebody bein’ killed."

Seiji held his rather shaky ground. "We saw you with Rowen in a sack," he declared.

"What sack?" asked Kento, pulling another apple out of the burlap sack on the floor beside the couch.

Seiji blinked. "Oh," he said. "So..." He frowned. "So... that wasn’t Rowen’s body?"

Rowen grinned rudely at Seiji. "Apparently not."

Seiji made a mental note to punch him later.

"But you did lock us in," Sai piped up.

"Yes, I locked you in before you knocked the whole place down! You come in here, you break up the windows, you stall the dumbwaiter, you destroy my laundry chute... Who’s going to pay for all this?"

"I guess the same person who’s going to pay for the root cellar, sir?" Sai offered, timidly.

"The root cellar? What happened to the —" The old man studied Sai carefully. "You do a lot of falling, don’t you kid."

"I had help!" Sai blushed and looked irritably at the others.

"Where were you kids raised, some kind of crazy barn!?"

There was more head hanging.

"So... so you’re not a witch then?" Seiji tried one more time.

"A witch!?" The old guy would have jumped up and down had his rickety frame allowed it. "Boy, I have been a Cub Scout, I was with the boys on the beaches of Normandy, I tuned Hendrix’s guitar and hell, I even been a sideshow magician, and in all my born days I have never been..." He ran out of steam, and shook his head with a sigh.

"Never held with that sort of rubbish. Swords and demons and warlords and magic jewels," he trailed off contemptuously. "Foolishness."

"I’ll say," Ryo murmured.

The old man shook his head, muttering under his breath: "Kids. Readin’ that damn MTV magic sword crap, fill their heads with nonsense..."

Seiji took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Sir," he said in his best reasoning-with-adults voice, "you’re not going to call our parents, are you, please sir?"

"He can’t," Rowen added, "because WE ARE ALL ORPHANS, remember?"

"Well," the old man snorted. "For orphans, you got some pretty pissed-off parents."

"You already called?" Involuntarily, Rowen’s voice went up an octave scale.

"Oh god," Seiji breathed.

"That one." The old man pointed at Sai, who jumped. "I recognized him from the community church book drive."

Quite suddenly, Sai’s face lit up in recognition.

"Oh! Mr. Weikerstein, it’s you!" he exclaimed. "I remember you now! Oh thank you very much for all those books you donated, those old Nancy Drews sold ever so quickly —"

"Why you’re quite welcome."

"Oh, and thanks SO much for that one on Motorcycle Repair. Aunty Felicia found it invaluable."

The other four stared at Sai as if he had sprouted antlers. Mr. Weikerstein’s expression was not much different.

"Yes. Ahem. Well your mother seemed to know all the rest of you’s parents. She said she would call them all."

Seiji took one tottering step forward, arms stretched out in supplication.

"Please," he begged, "call them back. Tell them you made a mistake."

"It’s too late for that now." Kento had darted over to the window. His voice was ominous. "Look."

They rushed to the window, the crashing lightning illuminating the street as they beheld a spectacle more horrifying than any they had yet witnessed this night.

It was their parents.

All of them.

 

 

Ryo groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Aw man, I’m so in trouble."

Sai bounced in agitation. "YOU’RE in trouble?! BOTH of my mums are here!"

Rowen chewed at his lip, leaning over to peer over their heads and out the window.

"We can always make a run for it?"

Kento snorted. "Good luck, my entire family is out there."

Seiji lifted the curtain back nervously, Kento wasn’t kidding. Not only was his mother, father, assorted siblings and grandmother standing out in the street, his four uncles, five aunts and at least half of his cousins were storming up the block. Rowen’s mother was shifting her pocketbook on her shoulder and on her cell phone. Sai’s moms were whispering irately to each other, their worry plain on their faces. The voice of Ryo’s grandmother could be heard over all of them; she was making her way through the small crowd and was yelling Ryo’s name.

And behind them all was Sensei Date. Seiji’s father. He was wearing his gi and a profound frown.

Seiji swallowed.

 

 

Kento’s Entire Tribe surrounded him in a Cacophony of Cantonese relief and reprimand. Kento tried in vain to reply to their countless questions and demands.

"Sai! Thank the Great Corn Mother you’re all right!"

Sai’s mothers lunged at his presence. He recoiled visibly from them even as they gathered him up and kissed his face.

"Where’s your raincoat?"

"Do you realize what time it is? You had us worried sick!"

"What have we said about wandering?!"

Sai, who was already on the edge, broke into a heartfelt wail and headed right into a good bawl.

"That’s it, no more community service for you, young man."

"Nooooooo!" Sai lamented.

"No more reading to the blind!"

"I’ll be good I promise!" Sai wept.

Rowen and Ryo stared.

"And just start counting the days when you’ll be hugging another tree!"

Sai practically collapsed onto the ground in despair, his wide green eyes searching their stern unyielding faces for a the smallest fraction of mercy.

Rowen nudged Ryo. "Which one’s his real mom?"

"I dunno." Ryo shrugged his shoulders. "I think both."

"Felicia, it’s all our fault. We spoil him..."

"I guess we have."

Sai was weeping and tugging at their home-crocheted sleeves while he frantically shook his head. "Don’t blame yourselves! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!"

One dried his face with a tissue while another checked him over for damage and breakage.

She straightened, crinkling her nose. "Sai... have you been drinking!?"

"No," Sai’s sobs renewed. "I fell on a wine rack that he liked very much and I broke it!" He pointed frantically, hoping to take some of the attention away from himself. "And they shoved me into the basement through a window!"

There was shocked disbelief and then they turned their collective motherly rage on Seiji and the others. "You shoved our son through a basement window!?"

Sensei Date slowly raised a hand from his crossed arms to massage his forehead. "Son. Did you shove this boy through a window?"

Seiji felt very small. "Yes, Otosan."

Ms. Hashiba managed to turn what sounded like a laugh into a stern cough and shook her head down at her own sullen son.

Sai sniffled. "I told him, Date-Sensei — I told him I was shocked at his behavior, but he just shoved me right in, I told him it was improper form, but he wouldn’t listen...!"

Rowen snorted. "Yeah, well Sai smoked a cigarette!"

Seiji was very grateful when the supreme dual power of MOM turned away from him and swung back towards Sai in horror.

"Is that where your brand new raincoat is? Did you sell it for drugs!?"

Ryo poked Rowen. "My grandma told me that they’re Lebanese. And they only like other Lebanese."

Rowen’s eyebrow went up. "They’re refugees? They look white."

"Huh." Ryo considered it all.

"Yeah, and they don’t let him eat any sugar," Rowen confided. "He came over to my house once and I gave him a Ring-Ding, and he bounced off the wall for like an hour and then he threw up."

Ryo frowned. "But what about all the candy he got tonight?"

Rowan shrugged. "He mails it to orphans who live in boxes."

They were interrupted.

"Don’t try hidin’ from me." It was Ryo’s grandmother.

Ryo gnawed at his lip. "Wasn’t!"

"What happened to your ankle?" Obachan demanded. The evening’s adventures had dragged her away from her weekly beauty night, which consisted of several dozen bubble-gum pink hair rollers, a toxic-blue face mask, and a stiff martini, which she had brought along with her. She did not appear pleased.

"I tripped over a cat?" Ryo answered, weakly fidgeting with the laced Rollerblades he had slung over his shoulder.

The older matron sighed and nodded. "Yep, that’s my Ryo, tripping over the cat." She eyed him when he had the bad judgement to snicker at her observation. "What are you some kinda big shot? Can’t be a hockey player tripping over a goddam cat. What am I supposed to do now, roll ya home?"

"No Obachan, I can walk." Ryo wobbled a half step and nearly ended up on the pavement, wincing in pain.

She blinked down with a slow, knowing nod. "I saved up for three months for those rolling blades, and you better believe the cost of that cat is coming out a’ your allowance."

Behind them all on the droopy porch the cat licked at its wounded tail and caterwauled in agreement.

Sai piped up. "We thought Mr. Peepers was a minion of the Devil!"

Obachan glared at the boy. "Stop that crazy talk."

She turned confidentially to Ryo. "I don’t think you should hang around with that one anymore."

Ryo was sheepish. "He’s all right, Gramma."

Ms. Hashiba ground out her cigarette under an expensive Italian heel. "Well, Rowen honey, this is a first." She glanced sideways and smiled in a pusedo-shy manner at Sensei Date. "Boys will be boys, I guess?" She tossed her head back with a clipped appropriate laugh.

Rowen sighed. "Mom, your bra is showing..."

"Yes, Mommy KNOWS that dear!" She adjusted her cleavage. "Mr. Date I must say, you have a wonderful jawline."

Sensei Date blushed and averted his eyes to the ground.

Seiji watched in unashamed wonder.

"Mom. Your desperation is showing."

The finely-manicured woman maintained a strained smile. "Rowen darling, do you remember that conversation we had at home about you not talking to Mommy in public...?"

Mr. Weikerstein cleared his throat. "Well here they are, I hope that’s all of them." Then he quickly added: "Any damage they have sustained was self-inflicted!"

Sensei Date bowed. He still had barely looked in Seiji’s direction. "My son will be here in the morning to repair and clean any damage he has caused."

Obachan waved her hand in the air. "Ryo too. Ankle or not, he can peel potatoes," she declared grimly.

"But ‘Bachan —" Ryo protested.

She shook her head, shaking the mass of curlers. "No buts! You don’t need yer ankle to scrub the toilets!"

Ryo was horrified. "’Ba-chan —"

Mrs. Hashiba smiled graciously. "I’ll send Rowen over tomorrow. He’ll do your taxes."

Rowen kicked at a rock. "Aw man, I hate doing taxes."

"But Rowen honey, you’re so good at it." She squeezed his shoulder and winked at them all. "He saved me thousands in back taxes last year!"

One of Sai’s mums took off a few seconds from the vicious tissue-cleaning she was giving his face. "Sai will be over to do something about that garden of yours. You know, if you don’t get those leaves up you’ll choke the vegetation in the spring."

His other mom looked up from adjusting Sai’s pants. "I’ll have him bring you over some crystals and align them around your yard. With the properly-aligned shakra lines you could clear up the karma back flow and bring yourself closer to your vegetable brethren." She smiled.

Mr. Weikerstein blinked.

"You better believe it. I pay my gardener five hundred bucks an hour to take care of my plants and they don’t even answer my calls," Ms. Hashiba said.

Rowen snickered.

Sai’s mums swept him up and headed back down the street. Sai waved from over his shoulder before being yanked into the car.

Kento’s tribe had been yelling in Chinese for a good while. When they had all seemed to reach some kind of consensus, he approached Mr. Weikerstein sheepishly and translated.

"My uncle says he can get you a really good deal on a new furnace and my cousin said he can see about your roof if you want? It’s kinda, well, falling down? I’ll help them with it. Oh and my mother, says she is very sorry."

A handsome buxom woman eyed Kento sternly and nodded with an embarrassed smile to Mr. Weikerstein. She whispered some firm-sounding words under her breath to her son.

"Oh! She also said that you can have free dinner at the restaurant any time you want."

As one, the Fung tribe herded down to their minivans and sped off.

 

Mr. Weikerstein chuckled as he made his way up his stairs. "You boys sure are something." He made a small wave and disappeared into his dark house, slamming the rickety door behind him. They could all hear the loud rusty click of the deadbolt. 

Rowen whined. "Man, taxes!" He sulked in his oversized leather jacket.

Ryo hobbled up next to him with a groan. "Aw man Rowen, you’re lucky, all you gotta do is some stupid taxes. I gotta clean the toilets!" He paused, real worry dawning in his eyes. "Can you imagine the toilets in that place?"

Rowen brightened. "Yeah, fate’s a bitch, isn’t it Ryo?"

"Come on, enough chatting!" Ryo’s grandmother took him under his arm to support him. "We have to get you out of that jersey and into the bathtub."

"Obachan," Ryo said out of the side of his mouth. "Not in front of the guys!"

"Whaddaya talkin’ to me like that, I changed your diapers!"

"Obachan!!" Ryo cast a mortified weak smile at his friends as he was helped to his grandmother’s rusty old Buick.

 

Rowen fell into step beside his mother. "Mom?"

"What is it, honey?" She fished her car keys out of her purse.

"Do ya mind if I sleep with the light on?" Rowen chewed at his lip and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Maybe? Just for tonight," he assured her.

She smiled warmly down at her son, slipping a comforting arm around Rowen’s thin shoulders. "Why don’t we make some popcorn and watch your favorite movie. Creatures from Black Slime Planet or whatever its called."

Rowen paled.

She frowned and tried again. "How about that Hell Raiser from Hell thing?"

Rowen’s smile flickered weakly up at her. "Ah... could we watch ‘Lifetime’ instead?"

"Oh! Oh! The Ally McBeal marathon is on! We’ll stay up all night and make crank calls to your father’s new boyfriend."

"Thanks Mom." The corner of Rowen’s mouth tugged up in a smile and he leaned his head into her side as they walked off.

"So tell me more about this Mr. Date..." She began.

 

Seiji and his father were the last left standing in the empty street. His father simply looked down at him.

Seiji started to miss being ignored. He squeezed his eyes shut.

All right. I did it, I am evil, I am responsible, beat me, punish me, put me in the corner, take away my dinner, just TAKE ME HOME.

Before he could stop, Seiji felt his eyes burn hot with tears. It had been the longest night of his entire short life.

"Seiji," the sensei said uncertainly, "compose yourself."

Seiji tried to obey, but he began to tremble, an errant tear streaking down his face.

Date frowned, shifting where he stood.

Then, without another word, his father leaned down and picked him up.

Seiji wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and rested his head on the broad shoulder, utterly exhausted, the steady pace of his father’s walk lulling him into sleep.

the end.....


End file.
